Something To Talk About
by HelenVanPattersonPatton
Summary: After the announcement of Mindy and Danny's relationship becomes old news fast, Mindy schemes to prove to the office that her wildly romantic life is to be envied. *Submission to Operation: Tonic Water*


**Note:** _To the lovely, PhunkyBrewster. Whose words, both of fiction and encouragement, always bring a smile to my face._

* * *

"I don't know why it bothers you so much. You knew this was going to happen when we decided to tell everyone." Danny tosses the pillow sham from his bed to Mindy and she stacks it with the others.

"I knew they were going to talk about it, but I didn't know it was going to be like this," she whines.

"Sure you did. Not a single person in that office can shut up about everybody's personal lives. Including you."

Mindy glares at him and doesn't disagree. "That's not why it sucks, Danny."

Turning the covers down, he walks back to her and squishes her face quickly in a way that makes her lips pucker, thumb on one cheek and fingers on the other. It's that naturally paternal thing he does with kids when he sees them, which is adorable. At some point he retrofitted it, doing it to her whenever he thinks she's being ridiculous and wants her to smile. "Tell me why it sucks, muffin."

She kicks his shin hard enough to make him yelp, that stupid pet name she made the mistake of _one time_ saying she didn't hate only coming out when he's making fun of her. He drops a kiss on the tip of her nose with a smile and then keeps walking.

"It sucks because we waited forever to tell everybody - _you're welcome, by the way_ - and like five minutes later it was old news. Half the people in our office have a pool going as to when we're going to break up, and the other half treat us like some geriatric married couple. Not even _Betsy_ cares."

She kicks her toes at the edge of the rug and grumbles, "One day last week I thought she did when I found some weird list in reception of baby names-"

"Why would you think that had anything to do with us?"

"I don't know. Can't you picture Betsy making lists of obscure biblical names for all our potential children?"

He squints for a moment considering it, then nods reluctantly.

"But then, like, number 9 was Spot and 15 and 21 were both Grover. It was Morgan's list of dog names, Danny!"

"Calm down," he mumbles around his toothbrush.

"We are less interesting than _stray dogs_." And this was supposed to be the most exciting thing to ever happen to the practice. Don't they understand they're important characters in this epic office romance? They should freaking slow-clap every morning when the two of them step out of the elevator. "We've got to do something about it," she mutters to herself, thumbnail shoved in her mouth.

Danny spits in the sink and is shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no. Whatever you're thinking - stop. We are not doing some stupid stunt to make everyone at work gossip. The whole point of waiting to tell them was so that we could get good and solid so they wouldn't stick their noses in and mess things up. Them thinking we're boring is perfect."

No, it's not. She wants the slow-clap, damn it. Even if it's just once.

"Besides, what does it matter? We know it's not true." He winks at her in the mirror and it makes her toes curl in her socks. Her eyes flick to the clock, and she thinks if they're fast they can do it twice and still get nearly a full nights sleep.

Danny switches the light out in the bathroom and his hand is damp through the fabric of her camisole when he places it on her waist. He's looking down at her patiently, knowing her well enough to understand sexy-times won't start until she's gotten all of this out of her system.

"I just want, even if it's only one time, for them all to be blown away like they should be. I want them to look at us and go, 'Damn. Those are the luckiest two people I've ever met.'"

"Okay, I get that." he eases her glasses off, placing them on the nightstand, and kisses the highest ridge of her cheekbone. "Just tell 'em whatever you think will make that happen, I don't care. Tell them we flew to Paris for the weekend or something."

"Oh, Danny!" The idea shoots a jolt down to her toes. She throws her arms around his neck and squeezes tight. "Thank you!"

"You know it's a lie, right? We're not actually going to Paris this weekend."

"No, I know." She's peppering kisses feverishly across his jaw, muttering into his skin. "But as long as you back me up, I can tell those schmoes whatever I want. They are going to eat their hearts out, babe."

"Thank God." He picks her up and she squeals. Mindy wraps her legs around him, and he buries his face in her neck, walking them back to the bed. Danny falls to the mattress with her, pressing her down, and slips his hands under her silky top. "Now that that's settled..."

* * *

They are all a bunch of dead-eyed, useless turds. When she launches into her very detailed story of being swept away on the most romantic surprise getaway someone could ever imagine, the only person who even bats an eye is Peter.

"No you didn't." He snorts around a bite of apple.

"Yes, we did."

"You guys went to _France_ for two days?"

Mindy turns away from him and addresses everyone else hovering around reception. "Anyway, where was I? Ah, so there was this charming little pied-à-terre in the Saint-Germain-des-Prés" - she knows that's the ritziest neighborhood because that's where all the single, rich white ladies want to live in every episode of House Hunters International - "that Danny found -"

"No, he didn't."

"_Shut up_, Peter. Yes he did." Mindy flips her hair back and tries for a coy smile. "We ended up spending-"

"There's no way this guy took you to Paris. His eyes are glazing over now just listening to you talk about it. Danny, did you take her to Paris? For real."

Her head snaps in Danny's direction and he's looking back at her with wide eyes, brow shot up to his hairline. She sets her mouth and jerks her chin in Peter's direction.

"Yeah, no. Of course. Yes. I took her to Paris." There's an abstract pattern of sweat forming on his shirt at the small of his back. "It was great. Very romantic. And culture. . stuff."

She should have coached him more.

"Show me the pictures then."

"There are no pictures, Peter. We spent all weekend long in our perfect little Paris apartment having wild and passionate sex like you only see in films with subtitles. Okay? You want proof?" She pretends to scroll through the photos on her phone. "I can show you some pictures of us doing it."

"Hey!" Danny interjects, like he doesn't already know there are no naked pictures. Least not taken in Paris anyway.

"Ew, gross. No. Sorry I asked." Taking another bite of his apple, he walks away.

The few remaining people in reception are starting to go back to work and Mindy searches for the place she left off, all the details of the most wonderful vacation she's ever taken, even if it was only in her head, getting mixed up. Right. Where they were staying. "So -"

"What did you bring me?" Beverly asks.

The glass rattles so hard in her office door when she slams it Mindy's a little afraid it will shatter. She hopes it does. Not that anyone would notice.

* * *

"Come up with something else." There's Russian dressing on the corner of his mouth.

"Like what? Clearly no one believes me. Either that or they're too disinterested to even listen to my very well thought out lies. And you still don't want to make even the _tini_est grand gesture."

"For the last time, we are not getting matching tattoos."

Mindy wads up her napkin and throws it on top of her half-eaten club sandwich. She's too frustrated to even finish her freaking sandwich. "I give up. We can just be the sad, old boring couple. It's fine." She drapes her arm across the table and rests her head on it with a sigh.

"Hey." He pokes her forearm with his fork, the tines cold and a little wet from his pasta salad.

"Ow," she mutters, heart not in it since it didn't actually hurt.

"We can think of something else. Like. . . how 'bout a party? We can do something for the whole office, and you can go as overboard as you want. And I'll let you parade me around all night rubbing our happiness in our friends faces and not even complain. What do you say?"

Mindy shrugs discontentedly, but the idea isn't a bad one. Slowly she sits upright again. "What would we even have it for?"

"Who needs a reason? It can just be office appreciation, whatever. Make up a holiday or something. You're doing that all the time anyway."

"Danny, Arbor Day is a real thing."

He shrugs and takes another bite of his Reuben. "What are you doing?"

Mindy's got her phone out, ideas starting to swirl. "Well if we're doing this I gotta start working on the playlist."

* * *

It isn't surprising that she does go a little overboard. But she wants it to be nice, and the more she plans and the closer the day gets Mindy finds herself becoming genuinely excited for reasons other than a petty need to show everyone she's gotten the fairytale she always said she'd have. It will be fun to drink a little too much, sing and dance with everyone there, and then make out with her super hot boyfriend. It's going to be an epic night.

Danny is true to his word and doesn't say a thing when she decides she wants to have the food done by a chichi French bistro and picks out only the good booze. Or when she decides since they're having a more upscale gathering - even if the music would say otherwise - that fresh cut flowers are a must. His only stipulation is that they have the party at the office itself. It's a trivial thing so she kisses his cheek and points out that is the only concession he'll get.

By Thursday night all the work is done and Mindy is nearly radiating excitement. Tomorrow will be perfect.

* * *

"Where are you?" Mindy presses the phone closer and jams a finger in her ear trying to hear better, the connection terrible.

"I'm in Rockaway. Mindy, you've got to come get me."

"No, Morgan. There's no time. Take the bus."

"It's a train and two buses to get back there. It'd take all night. I'd never make it in time for the party. Please, Mindy. _Please?_" He's gone full on frantic whining.

"How would I even -" Before she finishes the thought Danny is there, car keys extended to her. "Really? You never want me to drive your car. I'm bad at it, remember?" she says, phone slipping from her ear.

"Doesn't matter. We can't have the party without Morgan. I've got procedures the rest of the day, but if you leave now you'll have enough time to get back by seven."

Mindy nods and tries to think of a reason for someone else to go get him, already itching to put the finishing touches on everything here. "Patients! I can't go. I've got two more patients this afternoon. Jeremy or somebody can get him."

"Dr. Lahiri," Betsy pipes up from the other side of the desk. "Your last two patients called this morning to reschedule."

"What? Why didn't you tell me that this morning?"

"I did."

"Oh." She sighs and pushes the phone back to her ear. "Tell me where to pick you up."

* * *

It is a particularly shady part of Rockaway - and that's saying something - where she finds Morgan. He's sitting on the curb with a skinny mutt licking his fingers, and there is no way in hell she's letting that dog in Danny's car. It runs off when she pulls up to them and at least that's one less way this night is going wrong.

"Whoa, Dr. C let you drive his car?" Morgan says, sliding in. "Must be love." He fiddles with the seat belt, and Mindy's stomach somersaults pleasantly.

"It is," she replies softly, even though she doesn't have to.

At the red light her eyes flick to Morgan's face, and he's smiling at her funny. "So what the hell happened, man? How did you taking a half day to run errands before the party end up with you stranded in New Jersey?"

"It's a funny story, actually..."

It is a story that takes Morgan all sixty-three minutes back to Manhattan to tell.

* * *

It's 7:15 when they step into the elevator and she searches in her purse for a mirror so she can at least freshen her lipstick. She'll change into her party dress before talking to anyone and will have to give up on the idea of redoing her hair.

Mindy's running the pad of her ring finger under her eyes clearing away smudged eyeliner, and doesn't look up when the doors open. She's nearly finished when Morgan pulls the compact from her fingers and drops it back in her bag.

"Hey! I wasn't done with that."

"You look beautiful."

She's about to say thank you when he plants both hands on her back and shoves her out of the elevator, the doors closing behind her almost instantly with Morgan on the other side of them.

Only then does she notice that the office is empty and mostly dark. She takes a few curious steps and everything looks party ready. The twinkle lights she hung are glowing, and the flowers are where she told the florist to put them. There are chafing dishes on the linen covered folding tables and the drinks are iced down. It would be perfect if anyone were here.

Mindy is about to get irritated, already reaching for her phone to call Danny and ask him what the hell happened and if he thinks Morgan may be doing drugs, when she notices the trail of flower petals leading to her office door.

Oh.

All the air in her lungs escapes in one breath.

She strides quickly to the door, thinking she must be getting this all wrong, and her feet fail her once she steps inside. An infinite amount of romantic films still have not prepared her for this.

"Hey," he says simply, his voice impossibly low over the soft music. Danny's even wearing a coat and thin tie, ones he knows she likes, and is painted in the light of two dozen candles. And he's beautiful.

"Hey," she mimics. He gives her that nervous, hopeful half-smile and it feels like there's a flock of birds in her chest attempting to take flight, wings flapping in time with her heartbeat.

He's waiting and somehow her feet carry her to him without consulting her brain. There are pools already shining at the edge of his eyes and she loses it a little, hot tears falling down her face before she realizes they're there.

Danny exhales on a laugh because, yeah, he hasn't even said anything yet and they're both crying. She leans into his touch when he brushes away her tears, his lips softly caressing her forehead.

"Is this happening right now?" she whispers, unable to contain it.

"Yeah, this is happening," he whispers against her skin, like they're in on the same secret.

Danny eases away and, taking her hands, clears his throat. "I know I am not an easy man to love -"

"Yes you are, don't say that." She clutches his hands tightly, but he laughs and shakes his head.

"I've got a whole thing I'm doing here, Min. Let me just say it all and then you can do like a counterpoint after."

"Okay." She nods.

"Okay." He pushes out his lips and exhales sharply, starting again. "I am not an easy man to love. And that has never stopped you from doing it anyway."

She chokes a laugh, tears clogging her throat.

"I don't ever tell you how you are the person I want beside me no matter what." Danny takes his eyes off her for the first time since she walked in and stares at the rug, collecting himself. She squeezes his hands encouragingly and he blinks hard, eyes focusing on her again. "And somehow you're always still there when I reach for you.

"I don't tell you enough that I love you," he says. "But the way you love me back, so fiercely and so much more than I deserve, makes me hope that you know it's true."

"I do, Danny. You show me every day."

This time when he blinks tears coat his lashes and fall only as far as his cheeks before he swipes them away. "I love you," he mutters around his hand, and she knows this isn't part of the speech.

"I love you, too," she whispers, and jiggles the hand she still holds, waiting for him to go on.

"I know that I am the luckiest man on earth. Because I got to fall in love with my smart, beautiful, funny best friend, and by some miracle she loves me back. I want to spend the rest of my life earning that.

"God, Mindy-" He's looking down at her with an expression so intense it feels like the building is shifting under her feet. "If you'll have me, I will spend every day loving you more than the last for as long as I live."

"Yeah." She's nodding emphatically. "I'll have you if you'll have me. We'll earn our miracle together, Danny."

He's beaming, leaning in to kiss her and his eyes go wide suddenly. "Oh. Where's the. . ." Patting his pockets frantically, he spins around, searching. There's a tiny black box on the table behind him and if he ever needs proof that she loves him, Mindy forgetting about the ring is it.

He's got that crooked, little boy smile when he turns back around making him look adorable and goofy. "Almost forgot this part."

Danny drops to his knee and with a creak the ring box opens, and she can't even look at it. In this moment there is no way even diamonds can outshine his eyes. "Mindy," his voice is thick and she wants to touch him so badly she twists her hands together to keep from reaching out. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Her hands cup his face and she drops to her knees to kiss him before he can stand, not even caring the way the rug burns the bare skin of her knees.

"Here," he says against her lips and tugging on her hand. Danny slides the ring over her knuckle and it fits perfectly.

"You got the right size."

"Yeah, I took one of the rings I see you wear on that finger out of your jewelry box when I went shopping."

A surprise proposal is amazing, but damn would she love to have witnessed Danny snooping through her jewelry drawer and fretting over which ring to buy. This one is perfect. "It's gorgeous, Danny. I love it. And holy crap, it's _huge_!"

"Yeah," he smiles proudly. "I thought you'd want a big one."

"Oh, you were _so_ right."

Danny pulls the cell phone out of his pocket, she thinks maybe to take a picture, before hitting a few keystrokes and pocketing it again. "Come on." He grabs her hand and they stand. "I've got one more thing."

There is a bottle of Dom Pérignon chilled with the other beverages set up on the drinks table that she most definitely did not buy, and he pops the cork with a twist of his wrist and pours them each a flute.

Mindy's waiting for whatever beautiful toast he has ready, but it doesn't come. The sound of the metal door to the stairs being pushed open with a clack and Morgan running breathlessly up to them interrupting.

"Did she - _oh_," Morgan bends at the waist, sucking in ragged breaths, hands planted on his knees. "Did - _ugh_ - I ran too fast." He waves his hand in their direction. "I'm okay. Did - _whew_ - Did she say yes?"

Mindy's eyes fly to Danny as he answers, "Yeah, Morgan. She said yes."

The elevator dings and when the doors slide apart and a small wave of people spill out; there's a string of people filing through the same stairwell door as Morgan. It's their party. All their co-workers and friends, all with expectant faces.

"When did you plan this?" she whispers to Danny in awe.

"Um, well, I've had the ring a few months, but the idea of doing it here and now didn't come to me until about a week ago. Right after you started planning the party." A few _months_? "Is it okay?"

"Yeah," she bobs her head. "It's amazing. You orchestrated this whole thing? Even Morgan?"

"Yeah. I had a lot of help."

Morgan takes a theatrical bow and Mindy feels like she should have seen the cracks in his story. Signs of this being a setup so clear now, like Danny being omniscient and ready with his car keys. She's glad she missed them.

Betsy pops forward, her face pinched. "I helped too, Dr. Lahiri. I _lied._" She twists her hands in the flowing fabric of her dress. "Your patients didn't call. _I_ rescheduled them. Are you mad?"

"No, Betsy. You did good." She shakes her head. "I can't believe you did all this..."

Danny shrugs and laces their fingers. "You wanted a grand gesture."

"Yeah," she says wistfully.

"Plus I figured this would give these guys plenty to talk about for a while." He smiles and nudges her, lips by her ear. "You want to do the honors?"

Mindy swallows and catches his eyes, the sudden realization that everything she's ever wanted being right here in front of her overwhelming. Amazing how so many different fanciful dreams somehow fit in one room. She nods.

"Everyone, everyone," she calls, even though she already has the rapt attention of every person there. "Danny and I are getting married!"

There are whistles and a few cheers, Morgan rushing to hug her too tight, Peter slapping Danny's back and shaking his hand, and Jeremy sweetly kissing her cheek, offering congratulations.

And everyone finally claps.


End file.
